


My Sex for a Minute off My Feet

by nicholas_de_vilance



Series: da kink!meme fills [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftercare, Come Shot, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, Group Sex, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Moresomes, Multi, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostitution, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex for Favors, Turns to full consent, sort of, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 04:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5730109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicholas_de_vilance/pseuds/nicholas_de_vilance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15060.html?thread=59212756#t59212756">this</a></p><p>Gratuitous, flagrant, hitchhiker cliché porno.</p><p>"Let me tag along, I'll do you some favors."</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Sex for a Minute off My Feet

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this is okay. Kind of took a few liberties, and I'm honestly not sure if it comes across as dub-con at first, like I intended. It's definitely full on con at the end and probably the most unlikely and gratiutous hitchhiker porn ever conceived. If I do say so myself.
> 
> Also, eager, submissive Dorian with a gentle top is my lifeblood, excuse me.
> 
> Still working on my other stuff. Enjoy terrible porn for now!

Wincing lightly, Dorian looks over at the two lady members of this small caravan. "Em..." he clears his throat delicately. "They can watch."

Moran, who is apparently in charge, nods, but he's got a huge grin on his face. "Like that, then, is it? You molly?"

Slightly taken aback, Dorian frowns. He has never appreciated being referred to as effeminate. Not that there is anything wrong or lesser about the fairer sex, he just thinks of Maevaris. He thinks of how hard it was for her to be taken seriously as... _her_. "If by that, you mean do I prefer men, then yes," he sniffs, looking away and stroking his moustache.

"Apologies, serah," Moran offered. "Meant no offense."

Dorian relaxes slightly. He constantly has to remind himself that this is not Tevinter. This is not a place in which men fucking each other is perfectly fine, but saying you like it is akin to heresy. This, of course, is not quite that example. This is five men looking at him with interest, and an agreement of services rendered in exchange for goods. He came across the caravan dog tired after running nonstop from a group of mage-blood thirsty templars. Now, he asks for a ride and some food, and they strike up a bargain, naturally.

Thing is, Moran didn't even suggest sex. Typically when one is in this situation - no coin and in desperate need - he can almost expect to be taken advantage of. Dorian has some experience with that. This time, Dorian went through the long list of relevant manual labor he was in no way adept at. When he got to the end he said "oh blast it, I don't suppose you'd accept fellatio." The only person in present company who knew what that word meant - the older of the two women - blushed brilliantly.

So, here they are.

"There anything in particular you want, serah?" asks the youngest man. Dorian heard them call him Blake.

"Come again?" Dorian just manages to still his head falling into his hands at that unfortunate phrasing.

Blake laughs, red tint on his pale face. "I'm sure that could be arranged," he offers. The others join in laughing.

"Yes, actually - " Dorian clears his throat and scratches absently at the heat on his face. He wonders if he's gone pale enough in this cold climate for his blush to actually show. He hopes not. " - I would prefer not to...em, not to swallow anything." They all grin at him, and while they do not look threatening - a handful of merchants and farmers - Dorian can't help the lump of anxiety in his throat. He smiles weakly through it.

* * *

 

As promised, Dorian lets the ladies watch. A dark, twisted part of him wishes that his mother and father were in the audience as well. Oh, if only Halward could see him now. Dorian of House Pavus, kneeling in the dirt of an open field, bare chested and sucking Southern, barbarian cock like he's born for it. What might Aquinea say if she learned of her precious boy whoring himself out for a ride in a pig-wagon. The thought thrills him.

Above him, Moran gives a low groan. Being the leader of this pleasant band, it only made sense that he goes first. "Shit, Tevinter, you're actually...fuck, pretty good..."

Pulling back, Dorian pumps his hand over Moran's shaft in place of his mouth and smirks. "Pretty good?" he challenges, cheekily. "I'll have you know I am amazing at sucking cock."

When he slides his mouth back down, Dorian relaxes his tongue and takes the entire thing into his throat. If Moran isn't impressed by that, Dorian will gracefully accept a few pointers. He only gags a little, blinking away the familiar sting of tears in his eyes. This isn't the biggest man he's deep throated; in fact Moran is relatively puny, in Dorian's opinion. Long, yes, but disappointingly slim. Still, Dorian is providing a service, so he reserves his judgement and pulls the man into his throat again.

"Alright," Moran admits, breathlessly. Anything else he might say is lost on a loud moan - the loudest sound Dorian has heard from him.

"That's better," Dorian hums around the flushed and spit-slick head. Despite his nerves - little knots of anxiety still twisting around in his belly, he finds himself at home in this element. On his knees for a man, he is as at ease and comfortable as when he found his calling in the study of Necromancy. The familiarity gives him the boost he needs to at least play confident. As does reducing a man as burly and large as Moran to an incoherent babbling mess. That, at least, is within Dorian's power.

Daringly, he pulls off and glances over his shoulder where the other four men stand and watch. "You know, you don't have to take turns," he coos with a wink. "I can multi-task quite well."

Also, the better to get this over with expediently.

To his left, the ladies giggle, a steady, aroused sound. Dorian finds he appreciates that more than he expects to. His face flushes again.

* * *

 

Somewhere between spitting out come and jerking a man to completion over his shoulder and face, Dorian finds himself hard. Achingly so. He gasps at the tightness of his leathers and has to take a moment to catch his breath. Someone has a hand in his hair, fingers gripping insistent, but not painful. He looks up through half-lidded eyes to see Blake. "Fasta vass," he mumbles, enthusiastically.

"Is that good?" Blake asks

Nodding, Dorian tugs his head against the grip on his hair. He leans into it, increasing pressure and moaning quite beautifully he presses his lips to the head of Blake's prick.

"Eager, en't you," says another man. Paul, isn't it? The one with the truly heroic beard that stretches down most of his chest.

Dorian takes him in hand as well - short one, but impressive girth. Kyle's had been similar, before he finished all over Dorian's side. They started commenting to him almost from the beginning, making him blush by saying rather sweet things about his eyes, his lips, and his skill, calling him handsome. At first, Dorian did his best to ignore it. He was already on his knees for them, he hardly needed more flattery. However, his anxiety faded in the wake of his arousal, and the ladies had taken to joining in with the encouraging words. Now, he preens when Blake strokes his hair and compliments him.

"Gorgeous," Blake sighs. His cock is still just out of reach of Dorian's mouth, and this is a travesty. Still, Blake keeps a grasp on his hair. "How could Tevinter ever let you go?"

Dorian laughs breathlessly and slips his tongue out for a taste before Blake pulls him away. "Hold on," the young man says, "I think Gregory and Peter are getting a little over excited." Peter, then. Not Paul. Good to know. "Be a shame if they missed out on that talented mouth of yours because they got off before they got the chance."

"Truly that would be a crime," Dorian agrees. Then, he is silenced as Blake moves him onto Gregory. The man is very well-endowed, large enough to give Dorian's jaw a pleasant and significant strain.

* * *

 

Unlike the other four, who simply unlaced their breeches and pulled their cocks out, Blake actually removed his tunic and shirt. He is beautiful, utterly, in a rustic, romanticized, dirty novel sort of way. Hardened chest, well muscled from a life of labor. Dorian admires the view whenever he gets a glance. Then, as Gregory's massive prick fucks in and out of his throat, Dorian feels Blake kneel behind him. Knees framing Dorian's, Blake presses naked chest against naked back and Dorian _quivers_  at the feeling. His attention narrows and splits between remembering to breathe and Blake's fingers dancing over his nipples, his belly and sides. Blake whispers a slow, encouraging stream of pleasant filth into Dorian's ear. Like their lovers.

"That's it, Tevinter," Blake murmurs, too low for anyone to hear except Dorian. "It's amazing how well you take it. Can't wait to fuck that beautiful mouth myself, but I'm holding out to be last, you know why? I get off, seeing a man submit like this. So willing, so pretty. Seeing the way you enjoy it. Yeah, I noticed your cock getting hard. Fuckin' beautiful, that is. I want to touch it, Tevinter. Would you like that?"

Dorian yanks his head back in his haste to let out a brittle, shaky "yes, fuck yes. Please." Gregory rolls his eyes at the interruption, but makes no comment. He just pulls Dorian back into place and fucks him harder. Dorian hums a delighted chuckle around his cock.

Blake pulls him out without further preamble, like he's excited for it, and Dorian almost comes right then. And still, Blake whispers sweet nothings into his ear. "Fuck, you're hot. All sweaty and leaking, prick twitching in my fingers. That why you didn't touch yourself, Beautiful? Hoping maybe I'd do it for you? Hoping I'd see how hot you get from having your face fucked and take pity on you? That's it, of course I would. You deserve a little attention after how good you were for Moran and Kyle."

With a growling moan, Gregory pulls out of Dorian's mouth and starts to jack his cock fervently. Dorian feels Peter's hand grip his own, urging. He realizes, slightly embarrassed, that he'd completely forgotten about the quieter man. He looks over, apology on his tongue, and chokes. Blake takes his hair again, forces him forward onto Peter until Dorian feels wiry hair tickle his nose.

"Gregory's gonna come on you," Blake sighs, "while you take Peter. Like that?"

When he's let up to breathe, Dorian nods his assent and thrusts his hips up against Blake's other hand.

"Good, Maker but you're perfect." Dorian wants to agree, of course he's perfect, but his mouth is full again and that is just as good. Blake's hard dick is pressed conspicuously against the seat of his pants, which is also, very good.

"I bet you want to come," Blake goes on. "Been holding out this long, I bet you're aching for it. But what if I want you to wait? Could you wait for me? Until my turn. Is that alright?"

Dorian just shivers at the thought. He manages to nod with his lips still suckling at Peter's head. The shock of something hot splashing over his face jars him a bit, until he remembers Gregory. His mind jumps back and forth, from the cock in his mouth, the come dripping over his eyes and nose and shoulder and Blake's fingers still sliding up and down his shaft. Then the words. Blake's fucking _words._  Dorian is moderately certain no lover or dalliance has ever spoken to him like this. It's filthy and vulgar, but it isn't degrading. Not some petulant tirade designed to remind Dorian of his place, his deviance. In a way, it's helpful. Blake's unending outpouring of verbal debauchery makes him feel comfortable, praised. As though this is not the lowest position he's ever been subjected to in his life - half-naked, kneeling in the dirt covered in the come of two different men. As though Dorian is some sort of gift to these poor, unfortunate Southerners, possibly the best thing Tevinter ever spat out. Dorian fucking loves it.

Peter comes, relatively quickly. Dorian is not one to judge as his mouth fills with bitter, hot seed. Some spills out, dribbles over his chin, and Dorian's eyes flutter open. He stares up at Peter, looking wrecked despite the beard, and feels Blake catch some of the overflow with his fingers.

After spitting and wiping his chin, Dorian grins up at both men before him. They nod and thank him before stepping away. Over his shoulder, Dorian spies Blake with his fingers in his mouth, sucking off the bit of Peter's spend he'd collected. It's so disgusting and crude that Dorian has to reach down with a tight grip on his cock to keep from spending that very instant.

Heedless of the mess on his face, Dorian pulls Blake in for a kiss. It is not something they had agreed upon, initially. However, he can't help himself. Blake is beautiful, enticing, and so very attentive. Dorian feels it would be rude not to offer him at least something more than he'd given everyone else. "I want you to fuck me," he doesn't mean to say, low and gravelly whisper.

Blake just smiles patiently and pets Dorian's come-streaked hair. "Perhaps another time," he replies softly. The words are a rejection, but the tone is not. Astounding. And comforting, since Dorian isn't sure why he'd offered in the first place. "Another time, in privacy, I could lay you out and worship you properly - lick every inch of that dark skin until you were begging and writhing for me. Then fuck you, slow and easy, until you came."

To his mortification, Dorian actually sobs with lust. It pulses through him, jerking his cock so a fresh spurt of pre-ejaculate beads out. Fortunately, no one laughs. In fact, the little field around them has gone eerily silent. There is the occasional wistful sigh from one of the ladies and Blake's easy, humming tone in his ear. Other than that, nothing. Dorian looks up to see all eyes on him. They all watch as Blake guides his own hand over his cock and slips two fingers into his mouth.

"Stroke yourself," Blake commands gently. His fingers slip eagerly over Dorian's tongue and caress the inside of his mouth. Dorian can feel the man moving behind him, hand working over Blake's prick as he thrusts fingers through Dorian's parted lips. It isn't exactly what Dorian expects, but Void take him, it is perfect.

Whimpering, Dorian obeys, pumping his fist, moving his hips, and suckling on Blake's digits. Dorian embraces his audience, locking eyes with each of them in turn. He winks at the younger woman - perhaps Anna? - who has her hand under her skirt, moving furiously. He is the cause of the awe around them. He and Blake, of course. When they'd decided this, that his sexual servitude was an appropriate currency for passage on their caravan, he hadn't dared to hope for an outcome like this.

"Oh, fuck," Blake whimpers against him, "'Draste's tits, Tevinter, look at you." He thrusts his fingers deeper, barely grazing Dorian's throat and Dorian gags and groans and comes, all over his own fist and the dirt between his knees. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes..."

Blake acheives, painting Dorian's back with the full expression of his pleasure. The sensation has Dorian whimpering, wishing he could keeping going. If only to hear Blake keep whispering in his ear.

The aftershocks roll over them almost languidly, and Blake presses soft kisses to the back of Dorian's neck. He's still mutter, unintelligible praise, breathed against the shell of Dorian's ear.

"Well, fuck," someone says.

"I concur," replies Dorian with a fucked out, languid grin. He eyes Moran and takes a shaky breath. He is hyper-aware of Blake's hands still running in soothing patterns over every inch the man can reach. "Was that to your liking, serah? Or must I try again?"

Everyone laughs, and Dorian thinks maybe the South isn't all bad, after all.


End file.
